


The Risk to Blossom

by amandaterasu



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Falling In Love, Infrastructure Porn, Love Triangles, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24655534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaterasu/pseuds/amandaterasu
Summary: Solus Galvus is a celebrity architect, and member of the board at Amaurot, Inc. He's known for driving away potential talent with his exacting standards. In an effort to findsomeonehe won't chase off, Elidibus sends him to a student exhibition at Hydaelyn University, where he meets a young woman whose talent for architecture takes his breath away. But nothing can ever be easy for Emet-Selch, can it?This fic uses theInteractiveFicsbrowser extension. Please set your substitues to the following:[FN] = Your self-insert's given name.[LN] = Your self-insert's family name.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Reader, Urianger Augurelt/Reader
Comments: 47
Kudos: 140





	1. The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” – Anaïs Nin

Hydaelyn University - a most prestigious institution dedicated to preparing young minds to make their mark on the world. Every autumn, their Senior Exposition was a major event wherein the coming spring’s graduating class would exhibit their best work so that the public and prospective employers could keep an eye on which students might best help their company achieve their goals.

Solus Galvus, board member, chief architect, and Emet-Selch at Amaurot, Inc. thought that was a load of pretentious rubbish.

He had attended Zodiark College a lifetime ago on the opposite side of the country, and the two institutions were viewed to be rivals. Yet here he was at eight in the god-forsaken morning, striding through what he still thought of as hostile territory. Worse still, the large coffee he’d purchased on the way here had run out, and now he was either going to have to get into a line at one of the cafés here, or suffer whatever swill they were trying to pass off as the stuff in the exhibition hall for the College of Art, Architecture, and Planning.

With a resigned sigh, he joined the line outside the only coffee shop he remotely trusted and pulled out his cell phone.

 **Emet-Selch:** I can’t believe you’re making me do this. Couldn’t you have sent Nabriales or someone else?

 **Nabriales:** I’m on vacation.

 **Emet-Selch:** You just had to schedule your vacation over this?

 **Elidibus:** Come now, my friend, you should be pleased. The students and faculty will fawn all over you, a celebrity architect in their midst. I know how much you enjoy the attention. 

**Emet-Selch:** You know this is going to end in disaster.

 **Igeyorhm:** I agree. He’s also going to be asked to judge their work, and Emet-Selch has never been good at giving constructive criticism.

 **Elidibus:** Then this is a good opportunity for him to learn.

Nabriales sent another text, this full of laughing emojis, and Solus rolled his eyes and dropped his phone back in his pocket. Nothing to be gained from the group chat, it seemed. He followed the line further into the shop until a voice he recognized pulled him out of his caffeine-withdrawal-induced reverie.

“Good morning, Solus. How kind of you to grace us with your presence.” Y’shtola Rhul was chief of planning for one of Amaurot’s largest competitors, Source, Ltd. Though definitely not friends, Solus had saved her life in an unfortunate scaffolding collapse a few years ago, after which neither of them could manage to extend the same vitriol to each other that their two companies usually interacted with.

He cracked an affable, if strained, smile. “I just need some coffee, then I can get this over with.”

“Those poor students,” Y’shtola said, jerking her head in the general direction of the exhibition hall. “Shall we take a bet on how many of them will cry from your harsh words by the end of the day?”

“No need,” he said, then glanced at the barista. “Large black coffee.”

“Feeling _bitter,_ are we?” Y’shtola chided before turning to the barista. “Give him a large almond milk latte with honey and cinnamon,” she corrected, then returned to him. “You must do something about your temper or you’re going to have an entire generation who has no desire to work with you. How is Amaurot to get anything done with you drumming out every other architect they hire?”

“They don’t need another architect,” he said, not arguing with the almond milk latte and handing over his card. “They have _me.”_

 _“You_ are not enough to keep a company that size afloat for long without burning yourself out.” She reached up and flipped the single lock of white hair that hung over his brow. “Why else do you think that self-absorbed Elidibus of yours sent _you_ to this? He’s hoping you’ll find someone that you won’t chase off.”

“I doubt I’ll find any such person,” Solus said as he took both his card and his drink and walked with Y’shtola towards the exhibition hall. “Students these days focus too much on the arithmetic of the job, not the _artistry.”_ He sipped the latte and was pleased to find it to his tastes, sweet and spicy without the cloying heaviness of cream. “Brutalism went out in the seventies, but that seems to be all their instructors know.”

She laughed. “Well, I must go and inspect the exhibits. You have a good day, Solus.”

He lifted the cup. “You too, Miss Rhul.”

Inside the hall was a madhouse, students standing by the tables where they had set up their proposed buildings, eager and ready to answer whatever questions prospective employers might have. The project itself seems to have been to design a building to occupy a specific space, with each student given free reign to show their talents. In the center of the exhibition hall was a scale model of the tract of land - lightly forested, with a creek running through one corner, that students could place their similarly scaled models into for a set period of time and give a presentation to a panel of judges. 

Solus made his way there and leaned against the judge’s table, watching as a young man made an uninteresting presentation about how the space should be used for a school. While the purpose of the building itself wasn’t objectionable, the boy’s thought that children might be induced to learn in a brick-and-mortar coffin that cut them off from the natural beauty of the selected site. 

The three judges - representatives of nearby cities; Gridania, Limsa Lominsa, and Ul’dah - gave the building an average of seven, and praised him for his fantastic work. Solus snorted derisively into his coffee.

“I take it you have an opinion, sir,” the student said, giving him a dim look. “I’m always interested to hear critique from the general public.” His tone belied the overconfidence of youth, and eagerness to flex his prowess on a member of the uninformed masses. Such pride grated at Solus and raised his hackles as he eagerly sought the fight. On the opposite side of the presentation area, Y’shtola was making quick cutting motions across her neck, a desperate signal for him to stop. He ignored her.

“I’m sure the general public would appreciate your work,” Solus said blithely. “After all, they see little of most buildings beyond how well they perform their stated function. You have produced a very efficient school that could be copied and pasted into any number of environments and serve its purpose. Rest assured, boy, you can look forward to a promising career that _exemplifies_ mediocrity.”

“What you have failed to take into account is that all _great_ architecture is in itself art. You are supposed to be making a functional sculpture that has a specific place within the world. It should grow naturally from its surroundings and feel as though that is the place it _belongs_ , not the place where it happened to be built.” The boy's face was red, and Solus shrugged. “Mayhaps a few more years of study and self-reflection might render you _passable,_ but you will never be noteworthy.”

“Sir,” Merlwyb, the judge from Limsa Lominsa, frowned. “Is it really your place to render such harsh judgement?”

“I suppose not,” he confessed. “I’m just a prospective employer, not a judge. I’m sure you have your reasons for inflating his ego.”

“What company are you with?” the student asked, scowling. “So I know never to apply there.”

“I’m Solus Galvus of Amaurot, Inc.” His pronouncement sent the expected whisper through the crowd. His name was far better known than his face. “And you needn’t worry - we wouldn’t hire you.”

“Right.” Kan-E-Senna of Gridania, another of the judges, turned her attention back to the student. “You may go. Would any other students like to present while Mr. Galvus is so kindly giving critique?”

A silence so clear you could have heard a pin drop across the auditorium lasted for only a few moments before a feminine voice, trembling slightly with false bravado, cut through it. “I’ll do it.”

The crowd parted slightly and a slip of a girl, wearing an off-the-rack pencil skirt stepped forward and helped the previous student remove the model of his school before she retrieved another model, shrouded in tissue paper, from the table where her presentation waited. Though she was a little unsteady in her high heels, she didn’t falter as she settled the model with utmost care into the landscape.

As she reached for the tissue paper, Merlwyb asked, “Your name?”

“[FN] [LN],” she said quietly, then pulled it back to reveal a cacophony of metal and glass that took Solus’s breath away.

The three judges frowned, their brows furrowing, until Nanamo, from Ul’dah asked, “What is it?”

“A library,” Solus answered, already approaching the display. His eyes fixed on the girl. “Which way is north?” She gestured towards one end of the scene and he pulled out his cellular phone, bringing up the flashlight app and turning it on, pacing back and forth as he emulated the movement of the sun across the forest and found himself transfixed. 

The judges were murmuring to themselves, until finally, Kan-E-Senna said, “It seems a bit… industrial,” in a flat, disappointed tone.

“Of course it does,” he breathed. “Don’t you -”

“I can speak for myself, thank you, Mr. Galvus,” [FN] said, and he suddenly realized he had jumped into the middle of her presentation. “The surveys and geological assessments of the area showed that it is prone to small tremors which would normally make a primarily glass structure inadvisable. However, as you can see in my plans,” here she handed a copy to each of the judges, “I have suggested the use of a specific type of I-beam that can bear the weight of the glass and flex with the varying strains.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a miniature beam, passing that to the judges as well.

“However,” [FN] continued without waiting for comment, “to still get access to the amount of light I had hoped to use, it would require leaving them exposed, which gave me the opportunity to be artistic while still within the guidelines of the project.” She turned back to him, then, and her encouraging smile was breathtaking. “Would you trace the path of the sun for me again so I can demonstrate?”

Solus did as she asked, pursing his lips to keep from speaking as she beckoned the judges over. They crowded around the model, gasping at the way his simulated sunlight threw the beams they had just objected to in stark relief, casting shadows that mimicked the trees that surrounded the structure.

“Looking at historical weather patterns for the area, it receives an unusual amount of sunlight compared to the rest of the country. I hoped to take advantage of this and make the light itself an aspect of the design,” [FN] said. 

Nanamo twisted the little sample I-beam the girl had provided in her hands. “It is… certainly beautiful,” she admitted, then walked back to the judges table. “You seem fit to burst, Mr. Galvus, and the girl did submit herself for your professional opinion. What are your thoughts?”

He turned off the flashlight on his phone and tucked it away looking over the model, then to [FN]. “I have no criticism to give at this juncture. The design is both technically and artistically flawless, taking into account both the environment within which it would be constructed and the purpose it would serve. It is a structure I would be delighted to see come out of a professional firm - the fact that a single student has done this is nothing less than a sign that Miss [LN] is a prodigy. She has the eye, which is the one thing in this career that cannot be taught.”

Her cheeks flushed as she looked away, but she smiled and mumbled, “Thank you, sir.” [FN]’s throat moved as she swallowed, and asked, “Do you have any other questions for me?” The query was directed to the judges so he bit his tongue, but Solus was already making his own list to pepper her with as soon as the presentation was finished. 

Y’shtola caught his eye and smirked. “I have a question for Miss [LN],” she said. “Have you applied for an internship with Source? I could guarantee your immediate acceptance.”

[FN]’s smile went from bashful to tight. “I did apply. You rejected me.” Sensing Solus was about to make the same offer, she turned to face him, her gaze level. “So did you. I am pleased and honored to have already accepted an internship with Ishgard Inspections.”

Behind the judges, someone sucked loudly on an empty drink, the straw making its grating chortle on the empty air. Both Solus and Y’shtola looked to the sound to find Aymeric de Borel, the CEO of the aforementioned inspection firm finishing off a soft drink, a triumphant smirk on his face. “We look forward to helping Miss [LN] prepare for what I am sure will be a breathtaking career,” he said.

“Still,” Solus said, and pulled out one of his business cards and a pen, scribbling his personal cell phone number on the back. “Should you reconsider at any point, call me.” She took the card with a polite smile, then Y’shtola’s, and tucked them both into the pocket of her fitted suit coat.

“If there are no further questions,” [FN] said, “I will cede the floor to my fellow students, whom I am sure are eager for the opportunity.” After tugging the tissue paper back over her miniature library, [FN] carefully lifted the whole thing from the landscape, carrying it toward her small display table.

Solus sensed the disaster a moment before it happened, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up just as a voice yelled “Stuck-up cunt!” and a baseball sailed through the air.

[FN] turned, shielding her creation with her body, but to no avail. Solus was already moving, but was too far away. The ball struck the back of her head and she tumbled to the ground to a chorus of shattering glass and skittering steel as her little library broke her fall. 

He arrived a moment later, ignoring the uproar the other students had broken into and dropping to one knee beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked, breathlessly.

She would not look at him, but he could see the way she grit her teeth over her shoulder. With trembling fingers she lifted a tiny sliver of glass from the ruins of her work. Only this close beside her could he see the tears that fell amongst the destruction, so he pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her. “Here.”

Bloody fingers took it, and she pressed it to her face, then the back of her head where the ball had struck her. “Thank you,” she said quietly, and forced herself to her feet, ignoring the cuts, scrapes, and tinkle of glass shards falling from her clothing onto the floor. “I-

“My dear, art thou well?” The irritating mode of speech could belong to none other than Urianger Augurelt, one of the board members over at Source. He ignored Solus and approached [FN], the way he took her in his arms belying an easy familiarity with her body that made Solus feel a strange emotion he recognized as _jealousy._ “Art thou injured?” the man continued, putting his long fingers to her head.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, pulling away from him. “I thought I told you not to come today. Isn’t that why you sent Y’shtola?”

“I had just hoped that thou might be willing to -” Urianger began, but she shook her head. 

“Not now. I’ve presented, and my project is in ruins. I have no reason to remain just to suffer further ridicule.” Her voice was acid and she turned on her heel, snatching her purse from the presentation table and bolting for the nearest exit, Solus’s handkerchief still clutched in one hand.

* * *

“The art world waits with bated breath for the next work from the enigmatic street sculptor known only as ‘Hades’. Last month he announced his next piece would appear somewhere in Mor Dhona, but as yet no new works have been found. As always, the police ask us to remind everyone that Hades’ work is _vandalism,_ and as such any information you might have regarding his plans or identity should be reported immediately.” The TV in the corner of the bar continued discussing the artist in question while Solus trailed his finger along the rim of his glass of expensive scotch, and thought about the girl he had met that morning, [FN] [LN].

Artistic talent like hers was rare. Rarer still in a mind that could balance the three-dimensional geometry required for successful architecture. He also pondered the sudden bout of jealousy he had when the head engineer of Source, Ltd., Urianger Augurelt, had swept in and put his hands on her. That cast a new lens over his day that he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with. 

He had been alone his entire life, eschewing real friendships and relationships in service to his art. But something about her had captivated him from the outset, and he could only assume it had something to do with the work she had presented. For the first time, he had seen a work created by someone else that _resonated_ with him. He felt seen, understood, as if he could finally have a conversation with someone who would not find him overly eccentric. 

Whatever he had seen in her, Solus reminded himself, she had dismissed him thoroughly. He should stop thinking about her. Easier said than done.

Solus set his briefcase on the bar top and opened it, pulling out a second cellular phone and turning it on. He called the only number in the contacts. “It’s me,” he said when they answered. “Get the stuff from my studio and pick me up in the usual spot.”

“Got it,” the voice on the other end said before hanging up. He turned the phone off again and finished his drink, settled his bill, then went outside.

It was a seedy part of Mor Dhona, but that meant people here didn’t talk to the cops, which was exactly what he needed. People knew his face, but not his name. They also knew he was good for cash, so if anyone saw what he was about to do, they were extremely unlikely to give a rudimentary description to anyone who asked.

Still, he checked for onlookers before he retreated into the dead end alley and pulled the black and violet robe from his suitcase, tugging it on over his three-piece suit. He set the familiar red mask over his face, then pulled his clawed gloves on over his hands. At last, he could be himself.

Hades stepped from the alleyway, wandering down the street until the familiar windowless black utility van pulled up alongside him. The side door opened and he climbed in, dropping his briefcase unceremoniously on the floor.

“Where to, boss?” the driver asked behind his own red mask. 

He had planned the financial district for this project, but for a moment he remembered gritted teeth and a forest of light.

“Hydaelyn University. Student Housing.”

* * *

It was nearly one in the morning when they settled on the perfect spot - a roundabout between four student apartment buildings that were that same brutalist bullshit he’d fought against his entire career. His conspirators, robed and masked as he was, were busy digging up the landscaping, disposing of all the plants not native to the area while another group mixed the Quikrete that would anchor his latest sculpture in the ground. He sat on the hood of the van, assembling the pre-built pieces of the sculpture with a portable welder until the two teams let him know they were ready for the base, and together they settled it into the wet cement they had poured into the empty furrows, between native plants and topiaries.

That was when the real work began.

Keeping a level on the spurs while he worked, his comrades used ropes to keep the base in position while he climbed the sculpture itself, adding to it layer by layer. By three, the entire thing was done, and he hopped down to help packing the equipment back in the van. 

A sudden cough drew his attention, and Hades looked up to see his white-robed partner in crime pointing behind him. He turned, and on the sidewalk was a young woman in jeans, flip-flops, and a blue hoodie with HYDAELYN across her chest in silver letters. He was about to order everyone to head out, when he settled on her face and recognized her at last - [FN] [LN].

Her eyes had already left him staring up at his latest work, and the tables were turned. Now he found himself breathlessly awaiting her judgement of his work, wondering if she would approve. She took a drink from her crayola-bright slushie and set it down on the sidewalk with a bag full of brightly colored candy and fumbled in the front pocket of her hoodie for her cell phone.

His feet carried him to [FN]’s side as she started taking photos of the sculpture. “Don’t post them yet,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll wait till you leave.”

Hades grinned, his smile the only part of his face visible beneath his mask. “Thank you. In exchange for the delay, I will show you something. Turn on the light on your phone.” 

[FN] smiled back and bent to her phone, tapping a few buttons until the flashlight filled their little section of the sidewalk with its harsh brightness. She looked up at him curiously, and he stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her to take her small hands in his clawed gloves. 

“There are small mirrors,” he whispered into her ear, “hidden in the top to catch the light and reflect it within.” He lifted her hands, and thus her phone, until the small light caught one of the mirrors and the entire twisting spire of metal and colored glass was illuminated with variegated blues and greens of the sea. 

Her pleased gasp was musical, and he chuckled quietly, so only she could hear. “It will be much more impressive at dawn and sunset, I fear. Or a night when the moon is visible.”

“Is that why you picked tonight to install it?” she asked. “Not enough light for someone to see it’s beauty and catch you in the act.” 

“Basically,” he admitted. Releasing her, he stepped away. “What do you think?”

“It’s excellent, Hades,” [FN] said, still staring at the shape of his work even after she’d deactivated the light. “Probably your best work yet.”

“You’re familiar with my work?” he asked, trying to keep the eagerness from his voice.

The tops of her cheekbones flushed slightly. “I’m a huge fan. Your use of the space is always magnificent. And their contrast with the architecture that makes up our lives is what inspired me to go into the field,” she gushed. “S-sorry. Didn’t mean to babble.”

“It’s fine,” he laughed, and before he could stop himself. “Your boyfriend is a very lucky man.”

[FN]’s smile faded as her blush deepened. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she declared.

Hades tilted his head. “Why do I hear a ‘but’ on the end of that sentence?”

“... but I have an impending marriage arranged by my overly-religious parents as a condition of me being allowed to go to college at all.” Her beautiful face turned to a scowl. 

“I’m sorry,” he offered, then reached out, catching her chin on the end of the claws of his glove. Hades tilted her up to face him and stepped closer, pressing his lips to hers. 

He was still trying to understand what had possessed him to do that when she sighed against him and responded, her fingers with their chipped glitter polish twisting in the fabric of his robe. Unwilling to deny himself when she was so clearly interested, he took what she offered, darting his tongue into her mouth to enjoy the flavor of cheap, college-town pizza and cherry slushie.

“Hades!” the driver called, and he pulled away from her, both of them breathless from the kiss.

“Give me your cell phone,” he commanded, and she did, courage induced by the early hour and undeniable connection they shared leading him to type the number to his burner cell phone in, then offered it back to her. “Don’t give that number out,” he said, “but text me. I’ll respond when I have a signal.”

She nodded and saved his number, then shoved her phone in the pocket of her hoodie. “I hope I get to see you again sometime.” 

“You will,” he assured her, then dipped his head and kissed her again, trailing the tips of his claws down her back. “Just don’t sell yourself so short as an arranged marriage,” he chided, before parting from her again to return to the van.

As they drove away he removed his mask, looking up at the painted metal ceiling.

“Damn, Emet-Selch,” Lahabrea said, removing his own mask. “I’ve never seen you move that fast with a woman before. Do you know her?”

“Yes and no,” Solus answered. “I just find the mask removes those inhibitions that govern my day to day existence.”

* * *

Solus slept in most of the next day, physical and emotional exhaustion extracting their toll for the previous day’s escapades. Yet he woke with the memory of cherry on his tongue and smiled foolishly into the high thread-count pillowcase beneath his head. 

Even though he knew it was a bad idea, he couldn’t help fishing out his burner phone and turning it on, letting it connect to the wifi to download messages while he took a morning shower. 

The news, blaring from the shower radio he had on, babbled incessantly about Hades’s “vandalism” of the Hydaelyn University campus, first reported by twenty-one year old [FN] [LN] via social media posts with photographs of the new sculpture she had discovered on her way home.

The mention of her age gut-checked him, nearly twenty years his junior, but he recovered quickly. He could find out if she had a problem with older men. Augurelt was closer to his own age than hers, perhaps she would be amenable to a slightly larger age gap, and -

“Solus,” he scolded himself. “You’re rushing things. One kiss in the middle of the street while you were masked does not mean anything.”

A number of hurdles still existed between himself and the girl he had become fixated on, and he tried to think about something else while he shaved, but in the end found himself opening his phone to his own surreptitiously taken photographs, of a beautiful library that now only existed in memory and media. Suddenly remembering she had first posted the photographs, he opened his own social media - first Facebook, then Instagram, then Twitter, then Linkedin - searching for her and following her on each platform. Perhaps it was too forward, but he could always portray himself as a prospective employer who had a deep appreciation for her work. That wasn’t a lie.

He picked up his burner phone, and to his surprise, he did not have a text, but he _did_ have a single voicemail.

“Hi, um, Hades. It’s [FN] [LN]. We met last night when you installed your latest sculpture, and you… uh… kissed me. Yeah. Anyway. I- Thanks. For showing me the light trick with it. I stayed up until dawn to see it for myself, and it was just as breathtaking as you said it would be. And thank you. For the sculpture. The view from my bedroom window is so much less depressing now. I’m sorry. I’m babbling again. Anyway. This is my number if you need anything. I… uh… bye.” Her voice was laden with hopefulness and anxiety and he listened to the message a handful of times, his smile growing with each successive listen before he called her back.

“H-Hello?” she said into the phone, answering on the first ring.

“For someone who stayed up til dawn, you certainly aren’t getting any sleep,” he chided.

“Hades,” she breathed excitedly. “I didn’t think you’d call me back. And I just decided to call it an all-nighter. I’ll sleep after my classes.”

“Or sleep during your classes. From what I have learned about you, you have a few standing job offers already.” 

[FN] sighed. “Nah. If my grades slip I have to get hitched immediately.”

He scowled. “You give your parents entirely too much control.” 

“Maybe,” she said. 

The conversation hit an awkward silence, and he suddenly said, “Let me see you tonight.”

“What?” her voice sounded both surprised and hopeful.

“You live near the roundabout, yes?”

“Yeah,” she giggled.

“Find something to hang out your bedroom window,” he breathed. “Text me what it is. I’ll come see you around eleven? I’ll bring food. Something better than what you can get around campus.”

“All right… yeah. I will.”

“Good,” Solus laughed, leaning against the door frame. “I’ll wait for your text”

* * *

“So, we’re in agreement that we’ll put together a proposal for the Aetheryte Plaza for Vesper Bay, along with developing a few properties in the town to accommodate the additional visitors the Aetheryte will bring?” Elidibus asked, tapping his pen against the printed copy of the board meeting’s agenda. 

A few mumbled ‘yeses’ greeted him and he sighed. “I know we’re all still exhausted. Anything else?”

 _“I am pleased and honored to have already accepted an internship with Ishgard Inspections.”_ [FN] had said. Emet-Selch coughed into one hand. “I’d like to bring Ishgard Inspections in as a consultant on this project.”

“Why’s that?” Elidibus asked.

“They have a new intern who showed promise at the exposition yesterday, and I wish to see how she works on a real project. Perhaps to offer her a job after graduation.” He leaned his head on one hand.

Elidibus and Lahabrea exchanged a heavy glance, before the former said, “All right. Nabriales, reach out to them and ask them to bring the intern to the meeting.”

“Got it,” Nabriales said. “Are we done here?”

Elidibus sighed and waved them out, making a few more notes on the agenda. Emet-Selch reached into his pocket and pulled out his burner phone, checking it again. He struggled and failed to hide the mischievous smirk that came upon him at the sight of one text message, Showing a rather large, brightly colored beach towel with fish and palm trees. “Look for this.”

Walking back to his office, he switched to his main phone, and called his favorite beachfront restaurant. “I’d like to order dinner for two,” he said. “For pick up.”


	2. The Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urianger meets an unlikely duo and Solus figures out what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed something fluffy after the AMOC chapter, so have more TRTB.

“Mr. Augurelt, thank you for joining us.” 

Urianger glanced uncomfortably at the young investigators standing to one side of Hades’s latest art piece. This was very near to his fiancée, [FN]’s apartment. She must know about it. Why didn’t she tell him? “Aah. Yes. How might I be of service?”

The first, a large, muscular man in a tight-fitting suit extended his hand in greeting. “I am Inspector Hildibrand, good sir, and this is my assistant, Nashu.” The girl he indicated smiled and lifted one hand, giving a little wave of her fingers. “We are hoping to learn the true identity of the vandal known as ‘Hades,’ but neither of us are familiar with the field of art and architecture. Thus, I decided to seek you out, and see if you might be willing to lend your assistance to our investigation as an outside consultant, my good man.” Behind him, Nashu nodded her agreement.

“Pray, of all the possible candidates, why hast thou chosen me?” 

“Because until _very_ recently, you were a suspect.” Inspector Hildibrand’s forthright attitude surprised Urianger. “However, security footage shows that your fiancée, [FN], did not recognize Hades, despite his forward conduct.”

“Forward conduct?” Urianger asked. “Pray, what meanest thou?”

Nashu coughed. “He kissed her.”

* * *

_This is a terrible idea,_ Emet-Selch murmured in one of Solus’s ears as he parked in the empty lot outside the sports stadium at Hydaelyn. _You think she’s really going to be all right with a man who wears a mask every time he meets her?_

_Only one way to find out,_ Hades whispered in the other, and Solus pulled on said mask with one hand while grabbing the bag of food with the other. He got a few weird looks for his getup as he walked the few blocks to the roundabout where people still lingered, taking photos of his latest work. Someone had set up a spotlight on top of a nearby building to catch the mirrors, so it seemed to glow eerily in the night, but it also gave him enough light to search for the beach towel - which he found, fluttering from an open window on the fifth floor of the building across the way. 

He waited for a lull in traffic before he sprinted across the street and made for the fire escape. While students still flowed in and out of the main entrance, he had no desire to draw more attention to himself than was already necessary for this ill-advised escapade.

_“I cannot believe you’re going to go see that girl again,” Nabriales had said when he saw Emet-Selch still had his mask and robes in his suitcase._

_“I think it’s sweet,” Myrune, Nabriales’s assistant, argued, adding creamer to their coffees. “Solus has been alone for so long, let him have some fun.”_

_“Just bed her quickly and be done with it,” his colleague groused. “She knows too much for someone you don’t plan to keep.”_

_Myrune said nothing in her disapproval, but she flicked coffee onto her husband-cum-boss with the stirring stick._

He shook off the memory when he reached the fifth floor, clinging to the rickety iron ladder and chastising the designer. It felt flimsy, like it would probably fall apart in the event of a fire, and he scowled at it as if his disapproval could fix it. He’d have to tell [FN] to report it to the university. A convenient cement ledge wrapped around the building at this level so he climbed off the balcony and carefully inched along it, pressing his body against the outer wall, weighed down on one side by the bag of food and it’s bottle of wine.

The sounds of the street outside dulled significantly as he carefully ducked into the open window and brough the towel with him. “[FN]?” he called to the empty air, but got no answer.

Hades nosed around the apartment, peeking into her bedroom and kitchen before he realized he heard the shower running in the bathroom. A glance at the clock on her stove showed he was about thirty minutes early, so he decided to take advantage of the time and raided her closet for a spare sheet to serve as a tablecloth and her kitchen for an empty bottle - what was it with college students and collecting interesting looking bottles? - to serve as a candlestick to a taper he stole from her bedroom. Plates, silverware, and plastic cups to serve in lieu of wine glasses were found in the kitchen as well, and by the time he heard the water stop and [FN]’s hairdryer start, he had everything set out for a candlelit dinner.

_You are forty,_ Emet-Selch seemed to hiss at him. _What are you doing wooing a girl nigh half your age?_

Hades ignored him, pouring wine in both of the glasses before he took one and leaned against the windowsill to wait for her. 

At 10:55 he heard the bathroom door open and [FN] darted across her living room, naked as a jaybird, to get into her bedroom and get dressed. She must not have noticed him lingering there because she left the door open, and he was treated to an uninterrupted view of her backside as she pawed through her dresser, eventually selecting a set of matching lingerie in black lace. 

He sipped his wine, smiling to himself as she busied about with putting them on; he enjoyed every twist and bend, the way her muscles moved beneath her skin, the curve of her spine as her shoulder blades became more prominent while she snapped her bra in place. An alarm went off to mark the hour just as she pulled a simple black dress over her head, and as it fell about her curves she turned to the window and shrieked.

“Y-You’re already here!” [FN] said. “How much did you see?”

Hades could not resist, and pushed himself off the windowsill, walking towards her slowly. “Everything.” A virulent blush exploded across her cheeks at the word, and once he was within arm’s length he reached out, hooking the claw of his glove under the gore of her bra where it waited beneath the neckline of her dress to tug her closer by it. “You needn’t be embarrassed, my dear.” He released her, trailing the tips of his claws up along her neck, enjoying the way goosebumps radiated out from everywhere he touched as he caught her bottom lip with the claw on his thumb. 

“You saw me naked,” she whispered.

“And it was delightful,” he replied. “You are _divinely_ constructed. I could labor at art all of my days and never craft anything as exquisite as you. It is a far greater sin, in my mind, that propriety demands such beauty as yours be shrouded away.”

“You shouldn’t talk to me about sin, when you’re trying to tempt me into it,” [FN] countered.

“Is it working?” 

“Not yet,” she breezed past him, back into her living room, but glanced back over her shoulder and winked. “But if you figure out how to sweep me off my feet, it might.”

“You know, for a woman with a fiancé, you are a shameless flirt.” Hades gestured for her to sit on the couch where he had set out the meal he had ordered for them - a selection of the restaurant’s best tapas, along with vanilla mousse for dessert.

[FN] bristled at his comment. “I told you before. It is an _arranged_ marriage, I didn’t _choose_ it.”

“You also mentioned it was religious,” he said gently, but let the matter drop. Her visible disquiet told him this was a sensitive subject. 

She took the furthest end of the couch, drawing her legs up to her chest and watching him. “So, why did you come?”

He sat down and took another sip of wine. “Can’t a man bring dinner to a girl he’s attracted to in an effort to woo her?”

“Usually, there are a few steps before dinner,” she said, and took the second glass from her coffee table. “Like… exchanging names, some basic information, letting the other person see what you look like.” [FN] drank, then licked her lips. “This is… surprisingly good wine. Wow.”

“What can I say? I know how to treat a lady.” He took another drink himself. “And we can play that game, but for now, you cannot see my face or know my true name.” He chuckled. “If I gave that information to every beautiful woman I met the police would have caught me an age ago.”

“And how often do you bring those beautiful women dinner?” 

“This is the first time. I usually ignore them.” Hades watched her closely, gauging her reaction.

[FN] seemed pensive and looked down at her wine. “Why me, then?”

“I was at the exposition,” he said. “I saw your library. It was… magnificent.”

“And it was shattered,” she said. “Artistic vision is all well and good, but if you fail to ever create anything it is wasted.” 

“Who put those words in your mouth?” he scoffed, but she turned away, grabbing a skewer of olives and eating those instead of replying. Realizing he would get no response, he continued. “You’re young. You will make great things in time.” 

“I don’t _have_ time,” [FN] snapped after swallowing. “My wedding is set for June 5th, the day after finals end. After that, Urianger expects me to work for him, at his firm. To ‘put in my dues’ as he puts it.”

“Urianger… Augurelt?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and pretending not to be familiar with his rival. “Over at Source, Ltd.?”

“You know him?” she asked.

“I’m familiar with his work - but isn’t he primarily a structural engineer? I thought his specialty was bridges.” Hades quickly shoved a piece of toast stacked with steak and goat cheese into his mouth to hide his anxiety. He knew the answers to these questions already, but he needed time to think.

“Yeah. He keeps talking about _guiding_ my talent. I bet he’s the one who sabotaged my fucking internship application at Source, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was involved with Amaurot rejecting me, too.” Taking another drink of the wine she rubbed her cheek. “Sorry. You didn’t come here to listen to me complain about my life. I have been very lucky. Urianger has been very patient with me, all things considered. He let me delay the wedding until I finished college.”

“Do you even want the wedding?” If [FN] was going to bring it up, Hades would follow that conversational trail.

“No,” she snorted derisively. “I mean, I want to get married and have kids, but with someone who sees _me,_ not a widower from my parents’ church who practically picked me out of a catalogue.”

“I have to admit, I didn’t think he was the type to accept an arranged marriage. From what I heard of Moenbryda, she would have been the first to condemn such actions.” He only realized he’d shown his hand after the words had slipped out, but [FN] seemed to be too far gone in the wine to notice. 

She gestured at him with patatas bravas speared onto a fork. “Then you know more than I. He won’t even talk about her. Says that chapter of his life is over and he needs to move on. I don’t see why _I_ have to be the one he moves on with.” Popping the fork into her mouth her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned, “So gooooood,” around the potatoes.

Hades couldn’t help himself and laughed at her tender innocence. “You know you don’t _have_ to work for Augurelt. I heard that you got an internship offer from Amaurot at the exposition.”

“Yeah, but then I’d have to work with that insufferable asshole, Solus Galvus,” she argued, and he nearly spit out his wine.

“You don’t like him?” He certainly hoped his voice seemed only mildly curious. 

“He’s talented, I’ll give him that; definitely has that irresistible silver fox thing going on, too.” She made a primal sexual noise in the back of her throat that had him biting his lip. “The problem is he _knows_ he’s talented. He _knows_ he’s sexy. And it makes him an insufferable dickhead to everyone around him.”

He wanted to laugh. [FN]’s honest opinion, of both his personality and his looks, was surprisingly refreshing. “Still, insufferable though he may be, he can do amazing things for your career. And I doubt he’d demand marriage as the price.” He licked his lips, “Nor would I.”

“And just how do you think an anonymous street vandal can help my career?” she teased, a playful smirk tugging up the corners of her mouth. 

“You know I can’t do things like _that,”_ here he gestured at his latest work out her window, “alone. I have connections throughout the industry. I can put in a quiet word and you’ll have high profile projects fall into your lap.”

“As if,” she shook her head. “No one serious would take a risk on me.”

“Solus Galvus would,” he confessed. “I can make one phone call and you’ll get the offer by this time tomorrow.” No need to tell her the offer was already forthcoming.

“Prove it,” [FN] said.

“Very well. I’ll make the call as soon as I have left. But I find I must ask, what will you give me for this favor?”

She lifted one of the little pieces of toast. “What would you have?” she asked before taking a bite.

“You.” His response made her nearly choke on the food. “I would have you taste the forbidden fruit before you give yourself to Augurelt, so you know what you are missing.”

[FN] chewed and swallowed in silence before she said, “I will not give myself to a man who won’t even show me his face.”

“I’m not asking for anything exclusive,” he countered. “Just allow me to be one of your paramours. Help me with my work. Take the opportunities I funnel your way.” _Let me terrorize you with affection as both Hades and Solus and see how long you last._ “I am planning a grand project for the week before your wedding already. If you and I are serious about each other, then I will introduce myself properly, and you can decide if you would still have Augurelt over me.”

“If I were to choose you, it would break Urianger’s heart.” He could see the guilt etched into the lines of her young face. 

“Come now, darling, you aren’t Catholic. No guilt for you.”

“How did you know I wasn’t Catholic?” She furrowed her brow.

Hades leaned close to her, pressing his lips to the curve of her jaw as he whispered. “We did away with arranged marriage centuries ago. And we have reconciliation to handle our sins.”

“Shouldn’t you have less guilt, then?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Not more?”

_“I_ have less guilt, but you’ve accepted an internship with those Ishgard Inspections boys. They’re that strange brand of Catholic that thinks self-flagellation is the purest form of worship,” he murmured. “My Catholicism is the brand that says Christ died for our sins so I should ensure to wring every penny from the Devil lest His sacrifice go to waste.”

“My parents would despise you,” she said as she blushed. 

He sneered. “They held their daughter’s education hostage in exchange for her happiness. I have no desire to be the kind of man they would _like,_ [FN].”

“And what if we do become serious? What then?” Her voice trembled with a desire for reassurance, so he took her wine glass and set it on the coffee table with his own.

“Then you will trust me to love and care for you. But that is for the future. For now, just trust me enough to show you what it can be like.” Hades pressed his lips to [FN]’s and was delighted to feel her respond to his ardor, shifting her body to more fully face him as he crushed her into the arm of her couch. 

They stayed like that, twined around each other, alternating between kisses and feeding each other until her eyelids began to droop. Then Hades gave [FN] one last caress, and was gone.

* * *

The phone rang twice before [FN] picked up. “Hey,” she said.

“Good morning, beloved,” Urianger said as he glanced both ways before cutting across the street towards her apartment building. “I know that thou hath no classes until this afternoon. I had hoped I might take thee to breakfast.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I got a call from Mr. Wyrmblood that woke me up; the board over at Amaurot has a project they’re putting a proposal in for and have specifically asked for me as a consultant.”

“Thou art not ready for such responsibility. It is too much for thy shoulders and -”

“Urianger, I can’t exactly tell my boss, _‘No,’”_ she sighed. “I am on my way to a meeting now. But maybe we can meet for lunch before I go to class?” 

He closed his eyes and stopped walking, squeezing the small bouquet of flowers in his hand. She hadn’t completely shut him down this time. She had just asked to move it to lunch. That was something. That was progress. 

“Lunch, then. I shall find somewhere nice near their offices, and thou canst tell me about the project,” Urianger offered.

“That sounds great,” [FN]’s smile was evident in her voice. “I’ll text you when the meeting’s wrapping up, okay?”

“Very well. Until I see thee anon.”

“‘Till then,” she said, and hung up.

* * *

All conversation died when the team from Ishgard Inspections entered the conference room. It was Igeyorhm who noticed first, her politely curious eyes widening in shock before she looked to Emet-Selch. One by one, the others recognized [FN] as well, and their attempts to suppress their shock at seeing the girl again were beyond amusing. The only one who seemed unaffected was Elidibus, who politely pulled out a chair for the girl.

[FN]’s anxiety over the situation was palpable, and he watched the way her hands shook when she took the packet Myrune offered her. Why did her discomfort delight him so? 

The part of him that was Hades, the anti-capitalist street sculptor who yearned to fill the world with art, wanted to comfort her. He longed to reassure her that she had the talent to be sitting at this table, that the only thing she lacked was experience and that’s what her internship was _for._ The part that was Emet-Selch, the board member of a major corporation that specialized in civil infrastructure, wanted her to be afraid and intimidated. Only by recognizing the opportunity for what it was could she hope to produce good work that was worthy of it.

Regardless, it was Solus, the architect, that he had to be right now, and he leaned to one side as Myrune set the large laminated map of Vesper Bay in the center of the table, pausing for only a moment to kiss the top of Nabriales’s head. In response, her husband reached over and caught her hand, pulling it to his lips for a quick kiss as she passed by. 

Their easy affection filled Solus with jealousy. They were always together, at work and at home, save Nabriales’s participation in Hades’s excursions to set up sculptures and Myrune’s budding painting career. He wanted that for himself, someone to pester about work, to gossip with over coffee - a companion to ease the stark loneliness his life had become. 

The realization at last hit him like a bucket of cold water: that’s what he wanted [FN] [LN] for. He wanted someone who could understand his work by his side to discuss it with. He wanted a standing lunch date, a second voice in his office, a warm caress in times of stress. He wanted a hand to press his lips to in idle moments that would not shy away. He wanted her to call him insufferable again, and _laugh_ when she did.

Of course, none of this was helped by the way she had kissed him last night. [FN] had been an eager but inexperienced kisser, easily riled and quick to respond to the slightest aggression on his part. And having her on a more complete basis would allow him to chase those gasps and whimpers down to the bottom of that well, to both bring her ecstasy and find his own in a lover’s embrace.

**_“Galvus!”_** Lahabrea’s hand slammed onto the packet in front of him and Solus scowled at his colleague. “Sorry to interrupt whatever _fascinating_ discourse you were having with yourself, but we mere mortals have been trying to speak to you.” 

[FN] lifted one hand to her lips, barely suppressing a smile, and Solus took that as his cue to attack. “Forgive me, Miss [LN],” he said sarcastically. “Does my insufferability amuse you?”

Her smile died instantly and her face blanched. “I… I-” she began, but he waved her off.

“Don’t worry over it. I am well aware I’m _‘difficult to work with’-”_

“That’s an understatement,” Pashtarot mumbled.

“- but I have seen your skill first hand. You’re welcome to hurl whatever insults you like so long as you produce work _half_ as good as the library you presented at the exhibition.” She blushed delightfully at his words, and he remembered that same blush the night before when his lips had lingered overlong on the curve of her neck.

Elidibus raised an eyebrow at his words. “Well then, Solus, now that you’ve given your unsolicited opinion of Miss [LN] and her abilities, perhaps you might see fit to answer the question of _how you would like your coffee.”_

This meeting, Solus realized, was going to be a disaster.

* * *

Three hours later, they were still going around in circles on where to even begin with the work.

“My issue is trying to find _space_ for a damned Aetheryte plaza,” Igeyorhm, whose specialty was urban planning, scowled and tapped the map of the small town. “We’d have to demolish this fountain, and probably the buildings all around, but the local governments request for proposals clearly states they want the fountain to stay.”

Lahabrea reached over and squeezed the back of her neck affectionately. “Maybe this one’s just dead in the water?”

[FN], whose face had become more and more strained as the meeting went on, made a tiny squeak under her breath and bit her lip. The rest of the table ignored her, but he was eager to give her the opportunity to make an impression.

As soon as he opened his mouth, Deudalaphon cut him off and said, “Why don’t we ask Emet-Selch’s little prodigy what she has to say?” The man’s voice was thick with venom. “She’s been doing such an admirable job keeping her opinions to herself despite the obvious strain.”

Solus wanted to throttle the man, but it was quickly forgotten when she looked anxiously toward Estinien Wyrmblood, the surveyor for Ishgard Inspections. Nothing in the past few hours had done anything to abate his jealousy over her attention to other men, and it reared its head here as well. He wanted her to look to _him_ for reassurance and support, no one else. 

At least Wyrmblood had the good grace to give her a nod of encouragement. “Go on, [FN]. They’re the ones who asked for you to attend, after all.”

Exhaling the last of her anxiety, [FN] picked up one of the dry erase markers and walked around the table to his side. With an apologetic glance she leaned over beside him and said, “There’s plenty of space, it is just going to require a bit of extra work to make it suitable.” 

Solus stood to give her more space, but could not resist the urge to place a possessive hand on the small of her back as he leaned over to see what she drew. “As you mentioned earlier, you’re hoping to develop the space around it to accommodate the influx of people an Aetheryte will bring. There is no room for that development, either, without displacing the locals. That will only engender ill-feeling. So, we have to move out here.” 

As she straightened, the whole of her suggestion was revealed: a radial design of docks out in the sea, with an Aetheryte Plaza at the center of the pattern. “We can replace the docks that currently exist with a boardwalk for restaurants and sea attractions.”

Deudalaphon raised an eyebrow as the mockery left his face. “Interesting. I could see it working. It would be a massive undertaking.” 

“Creating an Aetheryte is a massive undertaking in and of itself,” Solus said defensively, before he eyed [FN]. “We’ll have to spend some time refining the idea, but I like the direction you’re going in.” The grandfather clock in the hall chimed noon. “Perhaps we could discuss it over lunch?”

To his dismay, she shook her head. “I have plans for lunch, and class this afternoon. But I could do lunch tomorrow?” [FN] bit her lip and turned to Estinien. “If that’s alright with you. I don’t know the arrangement you have with Amaurot and -”

Wyrmblood waived his hand dismissively and looked to Elidibus. “We’ll loan her to you at our usual consultant rate.”

Rynn looked between Aymeric and Estinien, then to the possessive hand that had slid from the small of [FN]’s back to her hip. “Why don’t we discuss it this afternoon, and they can discuss if that rate is amenable.”

“I don’t know,” Aymeric said, putting his hand on Rynn’s hip in the same manner. “[FN], are you willing to work _closely_ with Mr. Galvus?”

[FN] went to answer, but Solus leaned down and asked, “Do you trust him?” so low that only she would be able to hear it.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “This is a good opportunity. I would be a fool to deny it.”

Aymeric glanced down at Rynn and kissed her cheek as Estinien said, “If she wants to and they’re willing to pay, who are we to object, love?”

Elidibus fixed Solus with a sharp stare. “If you run this one off, the payments are coming out of your salary.”

Solus rolled his eyes. “I’ve no intention of running her off. She’s more than proven her talent to me. All she lacks is experience and a proper mentor.”

“Yes,” [FN] agreed. “That’s why I accepted an internship at Ishgard.”

“Speaking of,” Estinien said, taking one of Rynn’s hands. “You’ll still be expected to work on other projects with us, and attend our weekly meetings.”

“Yes, sir.” Solus bit his lip at how quickly she slipped into deferential treatment.

“And you are to submit timesheets for any weird, off-hours meetings Galvus is likely to call you for.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you are free to tell him, ‘No,’ if such meetings would interfere with your other responsibilities, or just your social life,” Elidibus interjected. “Regardless, we need to wrap this up. Solus, why don’t you walk Miss [LN] to her car. I have a few things to discuss with them.” He gestured to Aymeric, Rynn, and Estinien.

With a shrug of feigned indifference, Solus returned his hand to the small of [FN]’s back and guided her gently out of the conference room. He offered a silent prayer of thanks that she did not fight him until she asked, “How do you know him? Your voices are… very similar.”

Solus swallowed, knowing the game was afoot at last. “He’s my brother,” he lied. “We both look and sound like our father.”

“Oh,” he could hear disappointment in her tone, and knew she thought she’d caught him. She had, of course, not that he’d tell her until he told her _everything._ “Well, I should get to lunch,” she said as they approached the door to the office. “I can go the rest of the way by myself, you don’t -”

“Nonsense,” Solus interrupted. “We’ll be working together on this for some time. It only makes sense that we take the time to become more… familiar.” He let his hand slide down to her ass and squeezed it playfully as he opened the main door to the building - only to find himself face to face with Urianger Augurelt.

“Galvus,” he said tersely. “I must demand that thou removest thy hand from my beloved’s backside at once.”

He feigned a look of shock. _“You’re_ the cruel villain who has trapped the poor girl in an arranged marriage?”

“I never said -” [FN] began.

Urianger snatched her hand. “My relationship with my fiancée is none of thy concern.”

“I daresay it is when you’re treating _my_ protégée like property,” Solus snapped as he grabbed her other hand. “[FN], you know my invitation for lunch is still open.”

“I -”

“She has already made arrangements,” Urianger answered for her.

He was preparing another vicious barb for Augurelt when he noticed [FN] deflate, the fight that had been in her only moments before evaporating as her hand in his went limp.

“What,” Urianger continued, “no vicious retort? No witty quip in an effort to demonstrate thy superiority? No -”

“Forgive me, [FN],” Solus said quietly, and let go of her hand. “I will speak with you again soon about the project.”

“Thank you, Solus,” she said, but did not look back up from where her gaze was focused on her shoes. “I’ll call you after class to make plans to meet tomorrow.”

He bowed, ignoring the way Urianger’s gaze darted between the two of them. “Until then.”


	3. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urianger and [FN] have a frank discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had let this fic settle because I hadn't gotten any reviews on my latest chapter and thought there was no interest in it. Imagine my surprise when I was looking through my docs and realized I HAD NEVER POSTED the latest chapter. OOF.
> 
> Well here it is. If there's still interest in this fic I'll keep writing it.

“Why do you want to be with me?”

The question took Urianger off guard as he sat across from [FN] at the seaside restaurant for lunch. Midday sunlight caught her hair as she twisted it around one finger, watching him for a response.

He sighed and set down his glass. This is a conversation he expected at some point, the only thing that surprised him was that it hadn’t come earlier. “We share similar backgrounds and interests, my lady. Thou art intelligent and beautiful and full of the fiery conviction of youth. Of the women suggested to me by the matchmaker, thou wert the one I thought I might most be able to connect with.”

“That was three years ago, when I was eighteen. I’m twenty-one. Why do you want to be with me _now?”_

The waiter came by and set their lunches before them, which gave the engineer a reprieve to consider the question. Why _did_ he want to be with her?

It was true [FN] had given him little in the way of encouragement, but her requirement for accepting a marriage had been the freedom to attend university, so he had assumed she was focusing on her studies. As well, her parents were of a far more _fundamentalist_ branch of their faith, which taught that it was her place to be pursued by her future husband, and any sign of reciprocation on her part - 

Then he remembered Solus Galvus; the way the man had put his hands on [FN], as if he felt he had some right to her. She had obviously told him _something_ of their relationship - he knew it was an arranged match and seemed to take great objection to it. He had called her his _protegé,_ and already invited her to lunch. He had been at the student exposition as well, despite being well known for despising those kinds of things…

… and [FN] had been so adamant that her fiancé not attend.

Their eyes met as she waited for his answer, and Urianger began to wonder if he had underestimated her. 

“It is hard to say; thou hast given me so little of thyself despite my attempts to find a connection. I admit I had hoped thou wert merely waiting until thy studies were over and thou wert properly my wife for us to form a more intimate attachment.” 

He watched her for a reaction, expecting her to be hurt or shocked, but instead she crossed one leg over the other and said, “I have been taking out my anger at my parents on you. I’m sorry.”

“Thou art angry with thy parents?” he asked in confusion. The few times he had seen them together she seemd both dutiful and deferential. “Why?”

“They were going to kick me out and not pay for college unless I agreed to an arranged marriage.” The statement was a slap in the face to Urianger, both for the fact that it explained her frigid behavior towards him and that it was something he _really_ should have known. 

“Pray, forgive me,” he said finally. “That makes a number of things I had thought borne of naught but petty malice now make extreme amounts of sense.” Uriagner swallowed. “Is this the part where thou wilt end our engagement?”

“No,” [FN] shook her head. “I said I would marry you. I accept that…” Urianger did not comment on the way her hands were shaking as she looked out at the waves. “I accept that my happiness was the price for my education. But I would rather be miserable and have at least one thing that _no one_ can take away from me.”

This conversation had quickly become as honest as he had hoped their conversations could be, but now he feared he was not prepared for the depths [FN] seemed finally willing to show him. Urianger had no choice but to press onward. “Dost thou really think thou wilt be miserable with me?”

When she finally looked back at him, her face was hard. “Of course I will be. I’ll be spending my life playing second fiddle to a ghost.”

“Moenbryda was my wife,” he snapped. “Thou canst not expect me to -”

“I don’t expect you not to feel things for her or her memory. But the few times I asked you wouldn’t even _talk_ about her.” [FN]’s voice became sharper, and she grimaced in an effort to fight the tears that were gathering in her eyes. “You accuse me of giving you ‘so little’ of myself when it’s just as true that you have given me _nothing_ as well.”

Urianger watched as she suddenly composed herself with alarming alacrity, the veneer of a happy-go-lucky college girl slipping back into place. It was the only warning he received as the waiter approached their table, asking after the meal. She gave him a delighted answer, and asked for a to-go box, sending the young man away with a smile before she relaxed.

The interlude gave him time to think, so when she did return her attention to him, he was able to say, “Perhaps it would be better if we were to try again, [FN].” 

She raised one eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Thou art young, and correct in thy assessment that it is hypocritical of me to expect thee to bare all whilst I hold myself in reservation. As well, I am not blind - I see that Galvus has an interest in thee.” The way she looked down made it clear she’d picked up on it as well. “Surely there are other young men, perhaps thy own age, that thou hast developed an attachment towards.”

[FN] shook her head. “Just as friends.”

“Regardless - I had been operating these years under the assumption that an arranged marriage was something thou _desired,_ in and of itself. I did not realize that thou saw it as little more than a burden thou must bear to have thy dreams fulfilled. So, I would propose a bargain.” 

She paused. “What kind of bargain?” 

“Thou wilt be free to date as thou seest fit for the rest of the academic year. I will not tell thy parents that our arrangement is at all threatened, and will continue to travel home with thee on holidays to present that image,” he said.

_“But?”_

_“But,_ thou will allow me to be one of the people that thou shalt date for the rest of the year, and we will continue planning our wedding, only to revisit our relationship and assess if a wedding is appropriate for us once thou hast graduated.” He took a drink of water. “I would like the chance to win thee properly, rather than condemn myself to a marriage with a woman who resents me.”

* * *

Solus had spent the last few hours trying to sketch ideas for the Vesper Bay project, but every time his pen touched down on the paper, what flowed from it wasn’t an Aetheryte Plaza at all, but something else entirely. 

The sweep of eyelashes against a cheek;

The curve of a feminine jaw, tilted up away from a neck;

The edge of a lip, swollen from too many hungry kisses;

The pieces of [FN] crowded the page, no matter how he tried not to think of her. With a frustrated cry he crumpled the page and tossed it toward the small trash can beside his desk, letting it join all its companions littered with her hands, her hair, her eyes, her smile - a collection of memories that blotted out any real artistic work he would do that day. 

Worse still, he couldn’t stop thinking about what she might be doing with Augurelt. He knew she didn’t like him, but he wondered if the man might change tactics now that he knew there was competition. The engineer had never hesitated to use the underhanded to get whatever advantage he felt was necessary, but Solus couldn’t help but smirk at the two cell phones charging on his desk. He couldn’t really say he was much better. 

Giving up on working, he got up from his desk and paced. She had said she’d call after class, but he realized he didn’t know when that was. What if she had night classes? What if she -

One of the phones vibrated against the wood, the sound harsh and grating and so very welcome in the silence. He snapped open the case - his official phone. Solus’s phone. But it wasn’t [FN] calling; it was Urianger Augurelt.

He waited until just before his voicemail would pick up and stabbed the speakerphone button. “What do you want?”

“Now, Mr. Galvus… Surely thou canst spare a modicum of kindness, all things considered. I was calling to see if thou wert truly intending to mentor Miss [LN], if thy intentions are purely to seduce her.”

“Why?” he asked, pulling a bottle of scotch out of his desk drawer. “Upset that she might want to live a little before you guilt her into living in your shadow?” He still couldn’t shake the memory of her shutting down while Augurelt thundered at him. “Isn’t it enough you’ve trapped her in this arranged marriage and stymied her hopes for a career? Got to taunt those of us that actually care about her as well?”

“Thou hast never cared about anyone in thy life, Galvus.” Augurelt hissed. “Blessed so prodigiously with money and talent, thou hast no need to struggle to succeed as others have.”

Solus rolled his eyes. “Tell me more about your struggles, I’m sure they’re terribly fascinating.”

“Dost thou gain some type of sexual pleasure from irritating everyone around thee? I am asking thee on behalf of an acquaintance,” the engineer snapped. 

“I assume you had a real reason to call me,” he twisted open the top of the bottle and took a drink. “Something other than the verbal sparring, that is?”

The line was quiet for a few moments before Augurelt finally spoke, his voice thick with anger. “If thy intentions for [FN] are not honorable, then I beg thee - leave her be. Thou hast an entire city of women at thy disposal; do not break this one’s heart.”

Solus opened his mouth to retort, but the line went dead.

He dropped the phone back on the desk and took another drink of scotch. Augurelt had a lot of nerve asking him not to break her heart while he was planning to marry her despite her lack of love or affection for him. 

After careful consideration, Solus tucked the scotch back in his desk. The last thing he needed was to be inebriated before [FN] called. If she called at all. He paced the office, glowering out the window whenever he turned to face it. How long were her damnable cla-

The phone buzzed again and he snatched it up, flooding with relief when he saw [FN] [LN]'s name on the screen. He waited until the third ring to answer. "This is Galvus."

"Hello, Mr. Galvus." [FN]'s voice was measured. "I told you I would call after my classes to arrange meeting up to discuss the project. When works for you?"

"Are you free for dinner this evening?" he asked, taking a seat at his desk. "After all, I don't want to interfere with your classes or your work for Ishgard." Solus was sure he had her trapped, she'd have no excuse to object to -"

"Are you sure your brother would be alright with you taking me out to dinner?" she asked, and he had to mute the phone to keep her from hearing him laugh. "Since he made his desire for me evident?"

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn how Hades feels about this," he snapped, using feigned irritation to hide his delight at this game. _"I_ want you, if we're to be clear, and I have no qualms competing with him for your affection."

"Won't that make holidays terribly awkward?" she giggled.

"So long as one of us wins your heart, we'll consider it a victory," he replied, bringing up a local Michelin starred restaurant's website. "So: You, Me, Dinner. Tonight at seven?"

"All right. We'll see if you can make as good an impression as your brother did." Her voice was playful and catlike, and he couldn't help the wicked grin.

"Excellent. Wear something nice. I'll meet you by Hades's latest masterpiece." 

"All right. See you at seven," [FN] said before hanging up.

Solus made the reservation for 7:30, then pocketed both phones. He had to get ready.

* * *

At six, Solus tapped the call button on his second phone, the one that was tied to Hades. It rang twice, then he heard [FN]'s voice, though it was both tinny and echoed. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Getting ready for dinner with your brother," she said drily. "I suppose I should thank you for pulling the strings for me. Did you expect him to also attempt to seduce me?"

"I'd have thought less of him if he didn't." Solus smirked at his own reflection in the mirror. "You are wasted on Augurelt."

[FN] made a scoffing noise. "You should have seen the disaster today, the two of them bristling at each other when Urianger picked me up for lunch."

"Oh?" He frowned at the way she referred to it. He had capitulated because she was upset. If she thought that was bristling then she would be aghast to see the way the two of them got into it every time they had a few drinks in the same vicinity.

"Yes, it was…" she sighed. "At least Urianger wasn't completely blind to the idea that I might not be satisfied with our arrangement. He's agreed to let me date other people until the end of the academic year. Then we will discuss if we're still getting married or not."

"So eager to drop that little tidbit into conversation, are you?" 

"You're the one who called _me,_ Hades. I assume you wanted something?"

"I wanted to ask you to dinner, but if you already have plans with Solus I will not intervene."

She laughed. "I have plans for dinner, but not dessert."

"If I know my brother, he has plans to have you for dessert." It was true, and he glanced over his shoulder towards the door to his bedroom. He'd double checked that the maids had done their job well when he got home, hoping to bring her here.

"He's going to have a rather rude awakening if he thinks I'm going to put out that easily," she countered. "Besides, I don't think I'm ready for that with either of you. If I slept with anyone, it'd be Urianger."

Solus couldn't tell if she was baiting him or serious, but the idea of her giving herself to Augurelt filled him with revulsion. He needed to keep her occupied and away from the competition. "Well, how about I swing by your apartment after you're done with my brother. I'll bring something sweet and we can talk about my next project, if you're amenable. I do want your help with it."

"I will admit, the idea of artistic vandalism excites me."

"Does it?" he purred. "How excited would you say it gets you?"

A delighted shiver raced down his spine at the flirtatious giggle he heard over the phone. "Why don't I call you when I'm done with dinner and you can come over and find out?"

"It is a date, my dear. Though before I let you go, chocolate or vanilla?"

"I'm so inexperienced, Hades. Perhaps it's best to start with the vanilla."

He licked his lips as he set the phone down on his dresser. This woman was going to be the death of him.

* * *

Solus pulled up along the side of the street, already glaring at the group of boys catcalling [FN] where she stood on the sidewalk across from the sculpture. They were all piled into the back of a half-rusted Jeep, dressed like they'd just come from a gym, and continued their idiocy despite her attempts to make it clear she was ignoring them.

Let his irritation at the display translate to his actions, he threw the Maserati into park and climbed out, walking around the car towards her with an apologetic smile. "Do forgive me for being late," he said, nevermind that it was not yet 7pm. "I hope you weren't waiting long?"

[FN] smiled in relief. "Not at all, I -"

"Hey baby, tell your old man to let you call me daddy, too," one of the boys in the Jeep shouted.

Turning to tell him to shove it, Solus was cut off by [FN] as she snapped, one hand on her hip. "Please, there's only one man who gives me enough sugar that I'll call him 'Daddy,' and it certainly isn't you." With that, she thoroughly dismissed the catcallers and slipped her arm into his. "You were taking me out to dinner, if I remember correctly?"

A number of perverse comments ripped through his head in that moment, half of which would get him slapped while the other half could only be interpreted as outright begging. Thus, the only response left to him was an indulgent, "Of course, my dear."

He led her to the car and opened the passenger side door, enjoying the way her legs looked as she settled into the Maserati. Once she was clear, he closed it and walked around to the other side, ignoring the shouted comments from the boys who were quickly recovering from [FN]'s rebuke as he got behind the wheel.

"I got us reservations at a little Italian place. I hope that's all right?" Solus asked.

"Italian sounds perfect. So long as we won't be disturbed while we talk business."

"Business," he snorted, pulling a quick u-turn and driving back out of the circuitous campus streets. "As if I'll be able to talk business after you just called me your sugar daddy in public."

"Who said I was talking about you? You're certainly not paying my bills or buying me pretty things."

"Do you want me to?" He forced himself to focus on the road, despite how difficult she was making it in that tiny black dress.

"Not yet. We'll see how much you manage to earn my good opinion over dinner."

"Why do I feel like this is a job interview?"

"Because it is." The honesty with which she spoke surprised him. "I find myself in a position to choose between three lovely men. I'm going to make you, and your brother, and Urianger work for it."

Solus gritted his teeth in an effort to hide his grin. He had been right, earlier. [FN] was going to be the death of him.


	4. The Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solus takes [FN] to dinner. She goes to Urianger with an offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm deciding if the next chapter will have smut or not. I'm rolling the dice.

Like much of his life the past few days, Solus found that he had quickly lost control of the situation. He had hoped to ply her with wine like he had the night before, seduce her with pretty words and convince her to come back to his apartment and cancel on his "brother."

But [FN] [LN] was having none of that. 

Perhaps he had rushed the fence, which would explain her frosty demeanor. She had made her opinion of him _quite_ clear the night before, but he had been under the impression that her willingness to flirt meant the door was at least a little open. How wrong he had been. 

Solus's every attempt to turn the conversation away from work was met with a polite rebuff and redirecting him to this Godforsaken Vesper Bay project. Thus he found himself cast firmly in the role of Emet-Selch, board member of Amaurot, and looking over a handful of sketches with a critical eye.

"Have you ever designed an Aetheryte Plaza before?" he asked as the waiter set their salads down in front of them.

"No," she said simply. "I am currently taking a class on them, though, so I looked ahead in my texts for reference. I'm hoping to lean on your experience in that regard."

"You know you can lean on me for whatever you like."

[FN] chuckled and swirled her fork in the ramekin filled with dressing before spearing some of her salad. "I want to know what I'm missing." She nodded towards the sketches in his hand.

"An insufferable architect between your thighs," he said drily.

She rolled her eyes. "I've already got that covered later tonight. I'd prefer to focus on the project."

"You do, do you? I had thought I'd have to work a little harder to get you back to my apartment."

"You will. But your brother is bringing me dessert after you're done with me."

He met her gaze over the papers. "God willing, I will never be _'done'_ with you."

"Doubtful. Come June I'll be a married woman, and Urianger will have put an end to all of this."

"You know, I received an interesting call from him this afternoon. He begged me not to break your heart." Solus set down the sketches and started eating his salad, waiting for her response.

"Too bad for him you're not the Galvus he should worry about," she replied. "Though I must ask - what is your brother's name?"

"He goes by Hades," he offered.

"I'm aware of that, but I want to know more about him."

"And I want to know more about _you,"_ Solus countered. "Besides, I swore not to tell you anything."

"Then why should I tell you anything?"

"Because my brother isn't the only suitor you're considering. From what I hear I have 'that irresistible silver fox thing' going on.'"

[FN]'s face blanched. "He… told you that."

"Of course," he hid his smirk behind his wine, watching her fidget. "Perhaps I should clarify my relationship with my brother a bit more for you - we are both heavily invested in the future of the Galvus _family_ as a whole. We have reviewed your work, and decided that you will make an excellent addition. There's no ill will between - so long as one of us manages to claim you we will both be pleased with the outcome."

Solus could see her struggling to regain control of the situation; she had been toying with him most of the night and now that the tables had turned she was scrambling. But knowing what she was trying to do did nothing to mitigate his shock when she said, "I suppose in that case you two could share me."

He gave himself three wretched heartbeats to shove down the initial possessive urges that had him wanting to object. It was already bad enough that he was competing with Augurelt. The other contender was also himself. She was proposing he share her with himself. It was fine. It would be fine. Solus definitely wasn't suddenly thinking about the kind of sex drive a girl in her early twenties might have if she thought satisfying two men was a reasonable solution.

"I was under the impression we already were," he teased. "We just have to deal with Urianger."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and stabbed her fork into her pasta with surprising aggression. "Just don't forget that he is the one who came up with this arrangement." [FN]'s eyes lifted, heavy with challenge and expectation when their gazes met. "Do you really think he's so foolish as to not plan to stack the deck in his favor?"

"Do you think I'm so foolish to not have already arranged countermeasures?" Solus leaned his head on his hand and gave her a flirtatious smile. "We should set aside this whole business and skip straight to the part where you ride me like a carousel and demand pretty gifts."

"Is that really what you want?" [FN] asked, and something in her tone sent a shiver down his spine. "To be my 'Sugar Daddy'?"

"You seem unresponsive to my other advances," he confessed. 

"I have heard a great deal about you over the years, Solus, and very little of it was flattering. Can you blame me for being on edge, especially once I saw how rude you were to my classmates?"

"Considering what happened at the exhibition, can you really say they deserve my kindness?" 

Her eyes dropped to the table as her smile died and he shook his head. "Don't take it personally. The masses are jealous of real talent, and try to destroy it when they can. They treated me much the same, when I was in university."

"You went to… Zodiark, if I remember correctly?" 

"Yes," he chuckled. "How did you know?"

"I do pay attention to the big names in the industry, Solus." The way she said his name had him looking up, and [FN] gave him a small grin. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he replied.

"Why did Amaurot reject my initial internship application? When I asked Elidibus, he said you were the one who made the decision."

Solus winced. "You'll think less of me if I tell you."

Picking up her glass of wine, [FN] stared at it. "I don't know. Getting rejected by everyone except an inspection firm was a bit of a blow. You sit here and praise me for my work but it apparently wasn't good enough until you saw what I looked like." She swirled the wine. "It makes me wonder if the talents you really appreciate are the ones you imagine between my sheets."

"[FN], I -"

"Perhaps that's why I prefer your brother: seeing my work only increased his desire for me, so I know he appreciates it."

He sighed heavily. "You listed Augurelt as a reference."

[FN] paused and rather than the derision he expected, she giggled. "I told him it was a bad idea to include him as a reference. I bet he didn't have anything flattering to say."

"I never called him. We are not exactly fond of each other, as you may have noticed. I had no desire to work with someone associated with him." Solus leaned back and watched her. "When you left for lunch you seemed… disheartened. It is something I see in a lot of the people around him."

"Why do you hate each other so much?" Solus could feel her eyes lingering on him.

"It is a rather boring story that deals more with corporate espionage than personal issues," he admitted. "But if you _really_ want to know -"

"I do," [FN] said. 

Scowling, Solus lifted his silverware and began cutting his steak. "When we elected to move our headquarters to Mor Dhona, we made an attempt to recruit local talent into our organization. Elidibus came out here to handle the hiring process. One of the most promising people that we did _actually_ hire was Urianger Augurelt."

She blinked in shock at his words, but he continued. "We intended to make him a board member - Deudalaphon, if you care - and began preparing him for that role. He was given access to a lot of our corporate secrets regarding our design process, our contracts and connections, the drafts of upcoming proposals, all of it." He put a piece of the steak in his mouth, pressing his lips down against the fork with more force than necessary as an outlet for the anger these events always engendered in him. 

The girl seemed to recognize his ill temper and said nothing, choosing instead to fiddle with the pearl caviar spoon near her place setting. Solus was grateful for her silence, and once he'd mastered himself, he continued. "Once he had all the information he wanted, he put in his two weeks' notice and returned to Source. He gave them everything he'd gathered and they used that information to thwart us in bidding for the next three years."

"That…" She seemed confused by his revelation. "That doesn't sound like Urianger at all."

"And yet," he said, offering a sarcastic shrug. "I am in the position that I can avoid interacting with him, so I do. Anyone that is associated with him, I reject out of hand unless I have a reason to do otherwise. Thus, I tossed your application in the bin the moment I saw it, and it is something I have come to regret terribly over the last few days."

[FN] looked like she would say something, but then the Hades phone chirped in his pocket. "Oh, excuse me." He made a show of pulling it out and fussing with it to silence it, when in truth he was just sending her the draft text he'd created earlier. By the time she received the message, he'd already put his phone away and was refilling her wine.

"Oh, we're popular," she laughed, pulling out her phone to check it. The message that caused the blush darkening her cheeks was two words from his 'brother': "Call me."

"I… need to take this. Sorry. I'll be right back," [FN] mumbled apologetically before bolting in the direction of the washroom. Solus just waved her off and took another bite of steak, smirking to himself as she vanished towards the ladies room.

He had time for three more bites and another drink of wine before his phone began to vibrate, and he pressed it against his ear. "Hello, love," he purred, and heard her breath hitch on the other end.

"What did you need? I'm at dinner with Solus."

"I don't _need_ anything, but I wanted to get a little preview of my plans for tonight." He ran his finger along the rim of his wine glass. "Are you somewhere private?"

"I'm in the washroom," [FN] said breathlessly. "Why?"

"Is anyone else in there with you?"

"It's just a bathroom," she said. "Single occupancy, no stalls."

Of course, Solus already knew that, which is why he'd arranged things this way. "Good. I can't stop thinking about you. I want you to hear you touch yourself."

"What?"

"You heard me," he chuckled. "I want to hear you have an orgasm."

"Absolutely _not!"_ Her voice was full of righteous indignation. "I'm on a date with someone _else,_ in case you've forgotten."

"But you don't object to the idea of pleasuring yourself for my enjoyment out of hand?" Solus could feel the mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"For you? I'm objecting right now. But I keep my options open for romantic partners."

"You're certainly all teeth tonight. Did I miss something?"

Her voice was cold. "The part where I said I would not give myself to a man who will not show me his face."

"And I said I would show you when I was sure."

"Then you can deal with only getting kisses until then," she grumbled.

"Fair enough." Solus toyed with his fork. "Is my brother being a gentleman?"

"He is being open and honest, which is…" She trailed off. "My relationship with your brother is none of your business."

"Oh, really?" he laughed. "I don't mind, I'll hear it all from him later." 

"Maybe, maybe not."

He paused. "Are we still on for dessert, [FN]?"

"For now." The line disconnected, and he tucked his phone away. By the time she returned to the table, he was going over her initial sketches again; Solus only glanced up when she sat down again. 

"Everything all right?"

"Fine," she said, emptying her wine glass in a single swallow. "Just…" she shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"You know I'm always willing to listen if you want to talk," he offered.

[FN] glanced down at her plate, then shook her head. "I'd like your honest opinion on the initial design."

Solus paused for a moment, then nodded once, allowing her to change the subject. 

* * *

Urianger had just finished cleaning up the kitchen after dinner when his doorbell rang unexpectedly. Furrowing his brow, he tossed the tea towel onto the counter and made his way to the door; he only glanced through the peephole a moment before pulling it open in shock. "[FN]? What art thou doing here at this late hour, my lady?"

She stared at him as if she herself was not sure, and then the words tumbled from her like rushing water over rocks. "I was at dinner with Solus and then his brother asked me to do something lewd and I realized that I had never discussed it with you and if I'm going to have sex and I might end up choosing you I at least want you to be my first because I don't think you'll be nearly as selfish as either of those assholes and I -"

A distant rumble of thunder called his attention to the sky and Urianger sighed. "Come in. It seems it shall soon begin to rain, and the least I can do is invite thee in from the storm." He stepped aside to clear the way, and she walked past him into the foyer. She had been to his home a few times when he had invited her for dinner - admittedly less often in recent years than he had upon her first arrival in Mor Dhona. Still, those early visits must have left an impression, because she set her purse on the side table and took off her shoes before proceeding further in. 

Belatedly, the words she'd disgorged on his front step finally registered with him. "Th-thou art here for…" Urianger swallowed. "Intercourse?"

"I don't know," she admitted off-handedly. "I just…" [FN] slumped in place. "I do not want you to hate me, if you're the one I choose in the end."

"Why wouldst thou think that I would ever hate thee?" Laughing, he put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the couch. 

"If someone else is my first, I…" She bit her lip. "I don't know how much you care about that."

"I take it Solus made a rake of himself?"

[FN] shook her head. "His brother."

Urianger frowned. "I didn't know he had a brother."

"I only met him the day before yesterday; he asked me to masturbate while he listened today." She made a distasteful face. "I didn't mind kissing him, but I'm not ready to go further with a veritable stranger." 

"It was quite importuning of him to even suggest it," he added. "That is the kind of thing one only asks of a partner after you've established intimacy and trust."

"And it's clear he doesn't actually trust me," she grumbled. "N-not that I blame him. We just met."

That sat in silence for a few minutes before he gathered enough courage to ask, "Why didst thou come to me with this?"

"Because I would like my first time to be with you."

An incredulous laugh bubbled up out of his throat. "Why, pray tell?"

Her cheeks flushed and she looked down at her hands. "Because it's either you or Solus, and I already know he won't give a damn if I sleep with someone else first."

"You… discussed it with him?"

"Not in so many words. But he made it clear that he's open to whatever I am willing to give him, and while he'd like more than I have offered at present, he is content to wait for my consent." She wiggled her toes in her sheer stockings. "But you… I know that we're from the same religion, and my parents told me that no man wants a wife if she isn't a virgin. But Tataru was going on about 'test-driving the car before you buy it' and I realized I didn't want to marry someone to only find out the sex life would be abysmal."

"Thou art asking me to make love to thee this evening," he mumbled.

"And the penny drops." [FN] laughed. "Yes. I would rather… I would rather my first time be with you, so that I can go into the marriage without feeling like I'm cheating you." 

"Thou knowest I care not if thou hast other partners during this year. I had thought that was understood in our agreement." Urianger offered her a soft smile. "For it is just as true that I will not be coming to our marriage bed a virgin either, and thou hast so recently chastised me for expecting more of thee than I am willing to offer. That being said," he clarified, "if thou wouldst like to, I am more than willing to make the attempt." 

Urianger stood up and offered her his hand, and much to his delight, [FN] wasn't scowling when she took it.

* * *

Solus stared at the clock above his mantle, furious at the hours slipping by. He had told [FN] to call him when dinner was over. The desserts he had purchased for her - vanilla, as she had requested - were sitting in his refrigerator, waiting for that call; waiting for him to throw on his robe and mask and dash out the door to see her. But his phone remained silent, the only sounds were the ticking of the clock and the thunderstorm outside. He probably would have stayed like that until well after midnight if the landline phone in the corner of the room hadn't started ringing. 

Snatching it up with unnecessary ferocity, he growled, "What?"

"Mr. Galvus, sir." The doorman's familiar voice was tinged with anxiety. "Sorry to disturb you so late, but a Miss [LN] is here, claiming she knows you. I wouldn't normally call up for an unscheduled -"

"Yes, send her up, thank you," he said without hesitation. 

"Oh, uh, all right. Ha-" He didn't hear anything else the doorman had to say as he immediately dropped the phone back into the cradle and grabbed his robe and mask off the back of his arm chair and hid them on the top shelf of his closet. 

He was just tugging on a pair of sweatpants - had to give the impression he hadn't spent the last two hours waiting for her to call him so he could run out and see her - when he heard a knock at the door. 

[FN] stood in the hallway, sniffling in tears and dripping water from her clothes and hair onto the rug. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know who else I could go to."

"I… Of course," he said, taking her hand and pulling her inside and against his chest to let her cry. It unnerved him how quickly his irritation at her standing him up was forgotten, but he filed that away to deal with later. "How can I help?" 

She let out a few more quiet sobs and clung to him trying to get words out and shivering. A sharp crack from the storm outside made her jump and he hugged her tightly and shook his head. "Did you _walk_ here?"

"Not all the way. I took a bus." 

Solus rolled his eyes. "Don't you have Uber? Or Lyft? Or something?"

"Those cost mo- mo- mo-" [FN] suddenly tore herself out of his arms and sneezed unceremoniously into the crook of her elbow. _"Money._ Christ."

"Speaking," he replied offhandedly, earning a small smile from her tear-stained face. "Come on. It's late, you're soaked through. Why don't you take a shower and I'll lend you something to wear for the night? We can talk about whatever has brought you all this way, and I can see you home safely in the morning."

[FN] allowed herself to be ushered into his bathroom, and he pulled a towel and washcloth from the linen closet and set it on the counter. "Hades dropped off the desserts he had intended for the two of you about an hour ago," he lied. "I'll go set out one of my old shirts and plate them up for us so we can talk."

* * *

He had to admit, [FN] looked unusually domestic in one of his faded Zodiark University shirts with her wet hair piled on top of her head in a clip. She tucked herself into the corner of his couch and watched him as he brought her a plate of sugar cookies with peaches stewed in vanilla and bourbon topped with a little scoop of ice cream. 

Her smile was infectious, and Solus found he delighted more in her eagerness to try the dessert than the dish itself; that smile faded when he finally said, "Why don't you tell me what's troubling you?"

"While we were at dinner this evening, your brother asked me to masturbate over the phone for him, and I freaked out." 

"I take it you weren't interested?" he mused, pretending he didn't know this already. 

"I made myself clear: I am not interested in being intimate with someone who won't even show me his face. At the time I was just irritated, but when I was alone on my way home I started to realize that I was…" She shook her head. "Angry. He doesn't _see_ me, not like you do."

Solus took a bite of peach to avoid commenting.

"Anyway, I went to Urianger, because I realized that I wanted to be on the same page when it came to having sex before marriage. I don't want him to suddenly decide he is owed my virginity after it's a coin I've already spent, as my mother would say. So I went, and asked him to be my first, and he agreed."

He bit his tongue to avoid letting a snide comment out, but he could feel [FN]'s eyes on him, as if she were waiting for his response. Finally he exhaled slowly, and said, "I take it that didn't go _well,_ as you ended up in tears on my doorstep before the night was out."

[FN] swallowed her bite, then said, "He got me to his bedroom, we got naked, and then he just… couldn't. When I asked him why, he said that I wasn't Moenbryda."

"The fool should never have attempted to enter a new relationship before he was done grieving the last," Solus growled. "You deserve better than that. _Especially_ for your first time."

"I know," she said. "Maybe that's why I'm here."

"No," he shook his head. "You're not here for sex. You're not the type."

"Then what am I here for?" [FN] asked. 

Solus picked up a cookie off of his own plate, and shoved it into her mouth, making her crack a grin as she took a bite from it. "Comfort and companionship," he replied, then surveyed the shape of the bite she had taken out of it. "With someone you know cares for you, and wants to support you even if you _don't_ reciprocate his feelings."

"That's the worst part of this whole mess," [FN] laughed sardonically before she leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek. "I am beginning to think I do."


	5. The Name [EX]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solus wakes up the next morning.
> 
> Urianger invites [FN] to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some minor smut.

Solus woke to the sound of his shower and sat up, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. He'd drunk more than he intended the night before and he had a pounding headache, but he needed to try to remember what had happened. 

"[FN] and I shared dessert…" he mumbled, climbing out of bed and padding to his open bedroom door. "I told her to take the bed, and…" Freezing, he turned and looked at the rumpled bed behind him. 

"Oh no." Solus bolted into the living room, wincing to see the undisturbed pile of perfectly folded linens with a pillow on top beside the couch. "Oh, God _damnit,_ man. You couldn't keep it in your pants for one night?"

He darted back into the bedroom to find a pair of pants or something to pull on over his boxers and his phone started to ring. Tugging on a pair of pajama pants in a dark plaid, he snatched it up and hit the green call button in the same moment he registered the name [FN] [LN] on the screen. "Aren't you still in my apartment?" he asked.

"Yes." He could hear her giggle over the sound of the water. "I forgot to grab a towel before I got in. Can you set one on the counter? I've left the door unlocked."

"I... [FN]... My shower is gla-"

"Thanks!" she said, and hung up.

"Christ on the cross," he grumbled, heading for the closet where he kept the towels. "Of course she wouldn't think anything odd of you seeing her nude after you've had her. You've really fucked it up now, haven't you, Solus?" He pulled out two, just in case she wanted a spare for her hair, and headed towards the bathroom. "I'll apologize. That might help begin a proper dialogue about this."

After a light knock, he pushed the door open and tried to avert his eyes from the shower only to remember the opposite wall had a large mirror above the sink that showed everything anyway. He caught a glimpse of an effeminate shape through the fog before he snapped his eyes shut. "[FN], I am so, _so,_ sorry about last night," Solus said, setting the towels on the counter. 

"Why?" she asked.

"I- that is, my brother pushed you too far with his request at dinner, then Urianger thoroughly disappointed you, then you came to me for comfort and I proceeded to get you drunk and share your bed."

"Technically it's your bed, not mine."

"You know what I mean," he grumbled. "You came to me in a moment of vulnerability and I shat all over it by seducing you."

[FN] paused, and he heard the water stop. "Isn't that what you want, in the end? To seduce me?"

"I hope you have realized by now I want more than seduction. And… I should go. We can continue this discussion -" 

Solus heard the soft pop of the seal on the glass shower door and light footsteps on the tile, but as he started to make for the door he felt a hand on his. "Give me a second," she said.

It was hard, so very hard, to ignore the voice in the back of his mind screaming that he'd already had [FN] and she was naked right now and he should just open his eyes and feast on her but he managed to stop himself until after he heard the rumple of the towels and she said, "You can open your eyes, you big baby."

After receiving permission, it was impossible to resist, and he looked over to see she had wrapped herself in the towel to hide her unmentionables - but he still got to enjoy her exposed shoulders and the delicate ridge of her collarbone. "As I was trying to say," Solus said, "I am sorry for having my way with you last night. You had put up with enough already and I -"

She started laughing and stepped closer to him, pressing her chest against his and making him viscerally aware of the fact that he was shirtless and there was only a towel between them. 

"The worst part is I don't even have the comfort of remembering the delights if I was going to engage in such villainy and -"

"Solus," [FN] said, reaching up and touching his cheek. "As hilarious as this is, I have to tell you the truth; we didn't have sex last night." She chuckled. "Not for lack of trying on my part."

"Oh thank God," he breathed out, then winced. "Not that I don't want - that is, I would love to at a more appropriate and opportune -" He had been so wrapped up in his own awkwardness that he hadn't noticed that [FN] had pushed herself up onto the balls of her feet until he felt her fingers in the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

"[FN], I…" he breathed out, staring down at her.

"Please," she said, her voice as delicate as a frost flower. "Shut up." Then she was kissing him, and what little semblance of self-control he'd managed to have so far that morning fell away. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer, indulging in the delights he'd missed the night before. 

Just as he'd started to justify it to himself in his head, how he might be able to have her now, perhaps ask her to spend the day in bed with him letting him show her all the debauchery he fantasized about, an unfamiliar chirping rang out from his bedside table and she pulled away.

"Sorry, I have to take that," [FN] said before slipping away. 

Solus ran a hand through his hair and stared at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to make some kind of sense of how he felt about her. He wanted [FN], that much was certain, but for more than seduction or even a romantic partner. The image of that library she had made - the way the shadows formed trees in the unnatural light of his cell phone - still haunted him. What could she create, if given time and space and backing? What did she see beyond the stone and steel of his own creations?

"I have to get going," she said, and he tore his attention away from his thoughts to find her pulling on her rain-mussed dress from last night. "God, I don't even have time to change. It's going to take me an hour to take the train to Ishgard and I'm already late."

"I'll drive you," he said abruptly. "We can head to your apartment first so you can get something clean to wear; I'd offer you something of mine but I assume you don't want people to think what that would imply."

[FN] smirked. "But I'm sure you would like the sight of me wearing one of your oxford shirts and nothing else."

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. "Don't put ideas like that in my head when I have to take you _further_ from my bed." Placing a small peck on her cheek he pulled away. "Let me get dressed."

* * *

"What is this meeting, anyway?" Solus asked as they stepped into the elevator in her building. It seemed strange to be coming in this way, but she had invited him and did not know of his escapades on her horrid fire escape.

"It's the usual with Ishgard," she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "They like to have an all-hands meeting once a week to go over all the projects they're working on. I gave an excuse that you had kept me late at dinner going over my proposal for the aetheryte plaza." [FN] blushed. "So sorry in advance if I've gotten you in trouble."

"Somehow I'm sure I'll weather it," he chuckled. "How long should the meeting last?"

"Most of the morning, then I have to get back to campus for a design class at two."

"Long lunch break, or slow train times?"

"The latter," she confessed. "I'll try to grab lunch on my wa-"

"Let me take you to lunch," he implored. "I'll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, and have you back to old Hydaelyn in plenty of time for your class."

"Dinner last night, lunch today?" [FN] smirked at him. "People are going to think we shared breakfast, too."

Solus placed one hand on the elevator wall and leaned over her, bringing up his other hand to brush her hair out of her face as the elevator pinged their arrival at her floor. "If it were up to me, I'd share every meal with you, [FN]."

A sudden cough drew their attention, and he glanced toward the open doors to see Urianger standing there, clutching a bouquet of foxglove and violet hyacinths in one hand. 

"Galvus."

"Augurelt." 

The two men glared at each other as Solus and [FN] stepped out of the elevator. "I wasn't expecting you this morning, Urianger," she said.

"I came here to apologize for all that passed between us yestereve," he said, turning and offering her the bouquet. "But it seems thou wert not at home." The engineer looked pointedly at her dress then glanced at Solus. 

"We didn't _do_ anything," she blurted out. "I just needed to talk to someone after everything, and he was the only other person I thought I could trust."

"Thou art not answerable to me, as thou hast made it abundantly clear," Urianger argued, but he kept his eyes locked on the other man. "I assume thou art here to dress for the day? Be about it. I would have words with Galvus."

[FN] tossed a worried glance in Solus's direction but he shook his head. "Don't worry. I'll be right here when you're ready to go."

"I'll be right back," she said, giving the two men one last long look before she vanished down the corridor.

Once they heard the door to her apartment shut, Urianger said, "Didst thou give a single thought to her happiness before bedding her?"

"I didn't," Solus snapped. "But God above, did I want to."

"I have never known thee to be one for restraint. Perhaps thou wilt elucidate why thou hast chosen to start now."

"You know why."

Augurelt scoffed. "Fancying thyself enamored when thou knowest not the first thing about her?"

"You didn't see her library," Solus said wistfully before he shook his head and glared at Urianger. "And you have _never_ seen her. At least not until last night, when you finally realized she isn't a replacement for your late wife."

"Thou art so quick to point out my failings, but what of thy brother's?"

"Let me handle my affairs, and you handle yours."

"The lady is my affair, at least she was until I discovered thee sniffing about her skirts."

"Why do you have a care what goes on beneath them when you certainly aren't willing to enjoy it?"

"I do find it quite amusing - that thy brother is such a rake - when I recall that thou once told me thou art an only child."

"I thought I was," Solus lied. "Then I learned my father had a by-blow with one of his mistresses. He and I have become close these last few years."

"Is that all she will be to thee? A mistress?"

"Is that any better than what you're offering her? A place in the shadow of a ghost?"

"At least I _respect_ her."

"At least I love _her."_

Urianger laughed - a deep, resonant sound that echoed off the cheap cinder blocks of the student apartment complex. "I canst hardly believe it. Thou… thou truly thinkest that thou art in love with [FN]? Prithee tell me, what hath led thee to this belief."

"You wouldn't understand," he replied, embarrassed both for what he'd said and the other man's mockery."

"Try me."

"[FN] sees the art behind the -" the sound of the door stopped him cold, and he straightened his shirt. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"One day soon, thou might have to explain thyself to her."

Then [FN] appeared at the other end of the hall, having traded her little black dress for dark leggings and an oversized sweater. She had a large purse over one arm and clutched it tightly to her chest as she approached.

"Thanks for waiting for me," she said to Solus, then turned to Urianger. "And thank you for the flowers. They were lovely."

Her erstwhile fiancé smiled warmly. "Pray, allow me to invite thee to my home for supper this evening. I was ill prepared for thine unexpected arrival last night, and would like the chance to make amends."

She glanced awkwardly to Solus, then back to Urianger. "Can you not ask me on dates in front of each other? It makes me uncomfortable."

"Aah," he replied, blushing slightly. "Quite. Forgive me."

"I'll text you later," she said, and stood on her tiptoes, kissing Urianger's cheek. "I need to get to work; Solus is giving me a ride."

"Of course," Augurelt said weakly, and then watched as Solus whisked her away, back into the elevator.

* * *

"I must thank thee again for coming this evening," Urianger said as he put the dishes in the dishwasher. "Last night was… Well, I was not nearly the man of thy deserving."

[FN] giggled and swirled her glass of wine in her hand. "And what do you consider a man of my deserving?"

"Someone far better than any mortal that walks this earth, sadly, but I can only hope that thou wilt find me acceptable in the end." He closed the dishwasher with his hip and picked up his own drink, leaning against the counter beside her. 

"Well, that's why I am here, yes?" She gave him an indulgent smile and slid toward him.

Urianger shifted in time, looping his arm behind her and holding her against his side. He leaned down and pressed his forehead into her hair. "I am sorry about last night, and think perhaps it might be better if we were to take it slow." 

"How do you define 'slow'?"

He shrugged. "I thought that thou and I might start, and… see where our path leads us. Remove the expectations of anything specific."

She pursed her lips and looked down at her glass. "I have to know, and I want you to be honest: will you be angry if someone else is my first?"

"Solus is already pressuring thee?"

"No," she shook her head. "But I feel like I share a connection with him, and a different sort of connection with his brother, and then an all together third kind of connection with you." [FN] laughed drily. "Maybe my parents were right and going to college made me a penny whore."

"A religious upbringing really did thee no favors, did it?" Urianger shook his head. "I do not mind if you have others, or even if one of them is thy first. I care more that thou art safe, and come June that thou art sure of thy decision when thou makest it. But… for tonight…" He pushed off the counter and turned to face her. "I would prefer not to think of your other lovers."

He descended on her lips gently, cradling her head while he pressed kiss after kiss into her mouth. She tasted of cherry slushies and recklessness and her fingers clung to his fabric of his shirt as their kisses became more insistent. With a low chuckle he pulled away and took her hand, leading [FN] toward the couch in his living room.

Sitting down, he pulled her into his lap so she was straddling him and slid his fingers under her sweater to stroke her back as they resumed their kissing, becoming more passionate by the moment. Her hands returned to his shirt, undoing his buttons one by one, creeping closer to the waistband of his pants before she whispered, "Are you still okay?"

"I am fine and thou art _exquisite,"_ he groaned, palming one of her breasts through her bra. 

She pushed his shirt off his chest and ran her fingers over his skin, groaning in the back of her throat when they reached his waistband and the hardening bulge below it. Nimble fingers traced the shape of his cock through the fabric and he moaned, dropping his head back. She left a few kisses on his neck before she asked, "Do you want me to keep going?" 

"God, yes," he mumbled. "Don't stop now, I beg thee."

Giggling to herself, she unfastened his trousers and reached inside, pulling his cock free and stroking him with fumbling fingers. It reminded him of all the times he'd done this with his late wife when they were in college, but he shook the memory away and forced himself to focus on what was happening now.

Urianger was already close, his body starved for attentions that were not his own. He gulped down air in time with every stroke and only broke it to help her pull her sweater off so he could explore her chest more freely. Even so, his hands still moved to her hips, keeping [FN] in his lap and moving her pelvis in time with his thrusts up into her hand. He had missed this; he had missed being intimate for so _long,_ and she was warm and willing and when she tossed her hair to the side over one shoulder to kiss his neck again she felt just like -

An orgasm tore through Urianger's body and he spent himself across her stomach and chest as the strength of it tore a cry from his throat. 

He was weak and panting when [FN] climbed off of him, scurrying off to the bathroom to clean herself up. She didn't take long; he was still trying to clear the stars from his vision when she returned, snatching up her sweater and pulling it back on. He tried to get his mouth to work, to say words around the heavy breathing but his body wouldn't cooperate, and he was still dumbfounded when he heard his front door slam so hard it rattled the windows.

Burying his face in his hands as comprehension washed over him, Urianger could still feel the shape of his passionate cry on his tongue.

_"Moenbryda."_


End file.
